


4 Seasons (x2)

by random_pairings_50113



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Post-Season 5A
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_pairings_50113/pseuds/random_pairings_50113
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The pack post-season 5, adjusting to normal life. Exploring relationships through four seasons, over two years.)</p>
<p>Following her release from Eichen House, and the defeat of Theo and his chimeras, Lydia attends Christmas day at the McCall house. Two unexpected people turn up, and a lot of cute scenes ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas with the McCalls

**Author's Note:**

> Yo yo yo
> 
> It's another fanfiction from me
> 
> That's not the ones I've already started
> 
> Someone needs to stop me :)
> 
> In other news, Lysaac is one of my favourite pairings, so there's a lot of that in here, but I feel like there's more Malia/Lydia friendship which is also important to me. And it's not all focused on romance, there's a lot of friendship in here. Anyway, this idea came to me because I really wanted to write a Christmas fic, so that's the beginning. 
> 
> Ok, you can read it now bye

WINTER

Despite still reeling from her time in Eichen House, Lydia managed to pull herself together for long enough to withstand Christmas day with the McCalls. She pulled on a jumper Stiles had bought her a couple of Christmases ago (large and red, with an embroidered golden reindeer on the front; it matched her lipstick perfectly, and that was her excuse for wearing it) and tugged tights on under her skirt to mask the bruises up her legs. She curled her hair especially, packed all her presents into a box and drove along the icy roads until she reached Scott's house.

There, she was greeted with a large, warm hug from Melissa, who took the box of presents (and the bottle of wine Lydia had also brought) and ushered her inside. Scott was sat by the large tree in the front room, grinning ear-to-ear in his a Santa hat. Kira was unwrapping a present, practically glowing with happiness. Malia was in the kitchen, setting the table whilst giving off an air of unease; she still wasn't totally settled with everyone. Stiles and his dad were manning the stove, arguing over which was the best wine to go with the pudding; they only gave up when Melissa threatened to pour one into the dish for them.

Lydia sat on the sofa and watched Kira and Scott, both oblivious to the ensuing madness around them. Lydia herself had had a rather uneventful morning; her mom was away on a trip with one of her boyfriends, and she hadn't heard from her dad in many years, so she had been alone as she dressed and ate breakfast. Malia came into the room and dropped onto the sofa next to Lydia, giving her a hesitant smile.

"You feeling okay?" she asked.

Lydia smiled at the genuine concern, because even a few months ago, Malia would never have been bothered about her welfare. "Much better, thanks." It was a fat lie (she had recurring nightmares, practically no sleep, a limp that was looking to be permanent, and she suffered majorly from PTSD) and they both knew it, but Christmas was an excuse to ignore everything and be blissfully happy for one day, so Malia ignored it in favour of launching into an explanation about how holidays were still so foreign for her.

Eventually, dinner time came around, and they all arranged themselves around the table, ignoring the awkward tension between Stiles and Malia, and Stiles and Scott. Before they started, Melissa cleared her throat.

"Now, I know we didn't get a chance to celebrate Thanksgiving this year, due to a lot of... challenges-"

(Challenges that included: Lydia being tortured in Eichen House; Malia attempting to murder her assassin/werecoyote mother; Stiles facing his inner demons after killing someone in self-defense, even when aforementioned person came back to life; Scott dealing with the after-effects of coming back to life as well; the Sheriff in critical condition in hospital, and Kira moving away to control the fox spirit inside her.)

"-So I think that, before we eat, we should each say something we're grateful for," Melissa finished.

"That's easy," Malia said loudly. "My mom's dead. I'm grateful for that."

Everyone was used to Malia’s brash personality by then, so they all went along with her answer and took it in turns from there.

"I'm grateful everyone's still alive," Scott said, almost laughing in relief. He beamed at Lydia. "And I'm grateful for Lydia being here."

Lydia sent him a watery smile. Stiles rolled his eyes and attempted to restore a little humour to the table. "You're only allowed to say one thing, Scotty," he reminded. "Plus, you just took mine. I'm personally grateful that Liam had to spend Christmas away from us; that guy can be a lot of hard work sometimes." He hesitated for a moment, and then decided on something more serious: "I'm also thankful for second chances."

Kira took it from there. "I'm thankful that my body's no longer possessed by an evil fox spirit," she said, causing a little laughter to ripple down the table. "And that my parents let me spend Christmas with you guys."

"Well, I'm grateful that I don't have to spend Christmas alone with this guy," the Sheriff joked, gesturing to his son, who pretended to look highly offended. "And I am very grateful for the fact that Melissa let me cook instead of her. Potatoes are supposed to be roasted, not burnt."

In the laughter that ensued, Lydia tried desperately to think. But there was so much (not having to spend Christmas alone, the friends she finally had, being out of the living nightmare that was Eichen House, everyone being alive...) that she couldn't narrow it down to one thing. "I'm grateful..." she began, and then was cut off as the doorbell rang.

Melissa frowned and looked up. "That's funny. I'm sure we're not expecting anyone else."

Lydia, who was closest to the door, slowly climbed to her feet. "I'll get it," she announced, and moved away before anyone could protest.

She tried to see who it was before she opened the door, but it didn't seem to be anyone recognisable. Hoping desperately that it was only a salesman, Lydia cautiously opened the door.

She nearly screamed.

"Happy Christmas," one of the people said rather cheerlessly, with a little shrug that Lydia would have known anywhere, even under the layers of scarves and a large coat.

The other person elbowed him aside. "Is everyone else here?"

Lydia blinked. "You're joking, right? You've both been away for months, who knows where, and you show up and totally ignore me?"

They both looked a little guilty. Finally, Derek Hale sighed a long sigh before tugging her into a large hug. Lydia squeezed him around the middle and grinned to herself.

"You're just in time. We haven't even started yet."

Derek moved past her, and Isaac attempted it too, but Lydia didn't let him go. She hugged him tight, too, and nearly cried with the overwhelming happy feeling inside.

"I have missed you two," she said, and finally let them both go into the dining room to surprise everyone else.

After a long telling off from Melissa, during which both Isaac and Derek looked rightfully guilty, two extra spaces were cleared, and Isaac squeezed between Kira and Scott while Derek had to practically share a seat with Lydia. The atmosphere immediately lifted, and everyone seemed to be in the Christmas spirit a little more. Stiles took the opportunity to mock Isaac for his three scarves, while Scott talked animatedly with Derek about packs he had met in Mexico, and how Cora was.

Once dinner was finished, they all moved into the front room again. Scott and Kira sat on the floor once more, and Lydia shared a sofa with Isaac and Malia, both on either side of her. Derek sat on an armchair, the Sheriff and Melissa shared another sofa and Stiles was forced to sit in the uncomfortable deck chair that had to be pulled out from the garage.

Presents were exchanged and then the Sheriff retrieved the wine. Although none of the werewolves, or Malia, could get drunk, they still tried, until everyone was singing carols at the tops of their voices. After a little while, the heat and the noise started to get a little too much, so Lydia excused herself to get some air outside.

She sat on the porch, on a worn down bench, and watched her breath trail into the still night air. The stars were clear and the street was lined with twinkling lights. Lydia thought she suddenly understood why people thought Christmas was so magical. The door opened and Isaac popped his head around the side, smiling warily at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Did someone send you to check up on me?" Lydia guessed with a grin; she knew Isaac, and she knew that he tried his best not to care about anyone.

Isaac shrugged, dug his hands into his pockets and then came to sit next to her on the bench. "Malia might've suggested that I see how you were. Quite forcefully."

Lydia snorted. "Of course she did," she said fondly. "She's a little protective over us all now. Me especially."

"You seem to have a good friendship going," Isaac commented.

Lydia shrugged and focused her gaze directly in front of her. "I suppose. To say she was a coyote-turned-girl who didn't even have basic human functions, I'd say we've come pretty far. All of us have."

"Yeah, just think about the old Lydia Martin, seeing you like this. Hanging around with Scott McCall."

Lydia nearly laughed at the thought. "Old Lydia would have a fit. Scott _and_ Stiles, and a girl who spent most of her life as a wild animal? She'd hate me."

The idea brought her some sense of satisfaction, and she found herself smiling widely at the thought. They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment. Then Lydia plucked up the courage to ask the question they'd all been avoiding since Isaac and Derek walked through the door.

"So, how long are you staying?"

The question seemed to mellow Isaac out a little. "I don't know yet. Derek wants to go off with Braeden for six months on a tour of Europe, starting in a couple days. I've been sticking with him for the past few months, so I don't know what I'll do. I could go back to France with them, I suppose." The suggestion didn't make him seem to happy.

"You could stay," Lydia suggested, then she changed her wording. "You _should_ stay. Melissa would be more than happy to have you, and if she's not there's always a lot of room in my house, or at Derek's loft. Scott would welcome you as a Beta again, if that's what you're worried about. You don't even have to stay forever - just a few more months, to cheer everyone up a little." Lydia realised she had said a little too much; gone a little too far. She had made assumptions about whether he was even emotionally stable enough to stay. "But, if you want to leave, that's fine too. No one's forcing you either way. Just know that you have options."

She stood and offered him her hand, while he looked contemplative. He took it eventually, and she helped him up before they walked back into the living room together, where a rather animated rendition of the Twelve Days of Christmas was taking place. They ducked under Stiles, who was attempting to conduct the melee, and his flailing arms to find their place next to Malia, who was unsurprisingly sober, but rather surprisingly grinning.

"You never said what you were grateful for!" she reminded Lydia as they both sat down.

Lydia watched as Scott joined with Stiles' conducting, and Kira giggled at the sight of Derek with silver tinsel wrapped around his neck, Scott's Santa hat placed precariously on his head. She grinned softly. "I'm grateful for friends," was all Lydia said, but a million different meanings were behind those words.

The night eventually drew to a close, and Kira's mom came to pick her up. She gave Scott a distrustful look as they withdrew from the house, which served to make Isaac actually _giggle_ (he was a little drunk, too; someone had spiked Lydia's wine with Wolfsbane). Lydia took that as her cue to say goodbye to everyone, and she made a round of hugs before heading out of the door, satisfyingly happy with her day.


	2. Lydia's Birthday

SPRING

Isaac had promised to stay for a few days, and then until New Years' Day, and then that had stretched until the unforeseeable future. The frost lay off, the sun burst through the grey clouds and the world turned a lighter shade of green as the leaves started re-appearing and flowers began budding in the ground. Derek had left at the end of Boxing Day, resolute in his determination to see Europe with Braeden. Melissa had taken Isaac in immediately, and Scott had welcomed him back into the pack, even though Isaac kept assuring them it was only temporary.

Spring also meant that Lydia began revision timetables, which everyone hated. Isaac, who thought he had got away with it because he was no longer attending school, was disappointed when she roped him in.

"I'm no good at any subject," he protested. "Just look at my grades."

Lydia shrugged at him. "That doesn't mean you can't help. I need someone to go and buy the incentive."

He rolled his eyes. "Let me guess... pizza?"

Lydia grinned, handed him her purse and pushed him towards the door. "Perfect! Make sure you get a pepperoni for Stiles, otherwise he can't concentrate on English."

They set up camp in Lydia's front room, because no one but her lived there, and it was massive. Lydia set it up so that blankets and pillows cushioned the floor space, to make it more comfortable for everyone, and so that everyone had to face the TV, which she had managed to link to her laptop to show them her notes clearly. They all settled on sections of the floor (Lydia separated Scott and Kira on the basis that she was sure they were just going to distract each other) and begrudgingly brought out notepads to start taking notes.

Malia was, surprisingly, the best and most avid learner. She lay on her stomach with her legs in the air, chewing on the end of her pencil, and asking questions every so often. Everyone else just sort of flopped everywhere and pretended to be interested; Scott fell asleep a total of fifteen times.

Finally, the door burst open and Isaac barged in, arms laden with a good dozen pizza boxes. Malia's concentration was broken, and she leapt up to help carry the pizzas in, then ran to get plates for them all. Lydia gave up for a few minutes while everyone ate and took the opportunity to talk about something that wasn't algebra and liminal states.

“Hey, isn’t it your birthday in a few days?” Malia asked through a mouthful of pizza, and looking thoughtfully at Lydia.

Lydia winced a little. After everything with Peter, she didn’t exactly enjoy celebrating her birthday. She put down her piece of pizza and glanced at the calendar stuck to the fridge. It had scrawls all over it, from every member of the pack, listing exam dates, birthdays, planned days out, and more. Towards the end of March, there was a large red circle around Lydia’s birthday with a smiley face next to it that Scott had drawn so that none of them would forget.

“Yeah,” she eventually said. “Two weeks.”

Malia’s eyes lit up, oblivious to the wary glances everyone else were exchanging. “We need to do something! How old will you be?”

Lydia was slightly taken aback; no one had ever expressed this much excitement for her birthday. “Er… nineteen.”

“If you don’t want to do anything, that’s fine,” Scott said, perceptive as always. “Don’t feel pressured.”

Lydia shrugged. “It’s fine,” she said, and found that she was being honest. “I’d like to do something. We all have to move on at some point, don’t we?”

“Let’s go out somewhere,” Malia suggested. “I know you’re not good with large crowds at the moment, so a party’s out of the question. But we could go somewhere, just us lot. To the beach or something; a nice day out.”

Lydia slid out of her chair and walked over to Malia, giving her a very sudden hug. Malia’s eyes widened and she looked slightly alarmed, but eventually hugged her back.

“Thanks, Malia,” Lydia said when she pulled back, feeling very emotional. “I… thanks. I’d love to.”

Stiles punched the air with his fist. “I’ll get a map! We can plan where to go!”

He started to run off upstairs, but Lydia stopped him. “Stiles!” He halted and looked back at her guiltily. “Not until you’ve mastered that equation.”

* * *

 

The morning of Lydia’s birthday, she woke to a pleasantly full house. They’d all slept over the night before, after a long studying session (Scott had a very important biology test in a couple days; Lydia had assured him that her birthday was no excuse for him to slack). Lydia, Malia and Kira were sprawled across her bed; Stiles and Scott top-to-tailed a sofa downstairs, and Isaac had taken the guest bedroom. They all trudged into the kitchen and started on breakfast. Malia was on watch duty; she had the responsibility of making sure that Lydia sat and did nothing all morning. Scott fried bacon, while Stiles buttered bread and Kira whipped up smoothies in the blender. Isaac collapsed at the table with Lydia and Malia and promptly fell asleep with his head on the table.

Once everyone had eaten, showered and dressed, they piled into a minivan that Stiles had hired. They’d all brought a collection of CDs, so that the ancient van that had no air con could still play music. The sun was bright and warm, the sky was a bright blue, empty of all clouds and the windows were rolled down so they could all appreciate the warmth. Lydia smiled to herself and even allowed Kira to take a couple of selfies. Her birthday was a day to relax; there were no monsters, no killer werewolves, and they were all allowed to pretend to be normal for one day.

Stiles drove them to a beach that he’d been to several times before. It had a long stretch of white sand, and gloriously clear sea, but it was hedged off by cliffs and trees so it wasn’t easy to get to, meaning that barely anyone knew of its existence. Isaac gave Lydia a piggy-back down, and Malia did the same with Stiles, so that they all reached the ground safely. Then they spread out across the sand and set up a game of volleyball.

Three games of volleyball later, Scott stripped his shirt off and took advantage of Kira’s hesitation at the sight of his bare chest to lift her over his shoulder and throw her, fully clothed, into the water. Since it was so hot, everyone else quickly followed. Around lunchtime, they settled down to eat. Scott produced a large cake that he’d bought from a store and they sang a loud, off-key happy birthday to Lydia, who grinned the whole time.

The day ended with them sat in a row on the sand, facing the sea and watching the sun set. Glorious pinks and golds exploded in the air above them as the air turned cool. Lydia pulled on a sweater and took a deep breath, closing her eyes in an attempt to preserve the moment.

Someone nudged her shoulder. She opened her right eye to look towards Scott who had one arm thrown over Kira’s shoulders, the other pointing in the direction of Stiles and Malia, who were talking quietly. Neither of them could quite look each other in the eye, but they keep stealing glances and then quickly looking away when the other noticed.

Lydia beamed and felt the warmth in her suddenly swell. Here were her friends, all back together again, despite all the odds. She looked to her left, at Isaac, who was playing with the sand at his feet and devoutly not looking at any of them.

Lydia frowned and touched him gently on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Isaac looked up with a thin smile. “Fine.” He glanced at the sun, which was only a strip of brightest gold on the horizon. Then he sighed. “You miss her, don’t you?”

Lydia was speechless for a moment. Whenever anyone mentioned Allison, either directly or subtly, she felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, in the beginning, but it wasn’t any easier, especially since she knew the numbing of the pain meant that she was forgetting.

“Of course,” Lydia whispered, her voice suddenly caught with a lump in her throat. She fixed her eyes on the sun, too, and watched as it descended completely. “All the time.”

Isaac looked at her suddenly, as though about to admit something important. “I don’t,” he said shortly, surprising them both. “I mean, I miss her still, a lot. But I don’t think about her all the time. That’s bad, right?”

Lydia felt a little awed by how much he trusted her with his feelings. “No. It means you’re moving on, and that’s fine.”

“What if I don’t want to move on?” he demanded. “What if I like feeling miserable? What if… I don’t want to forget?”

Lydia nearly scoffed, but she caught herself. “I feel like that sometimes. Sometimes I think… well, at least if I’m feeling sad, I’m feeling something. At least I’m remembering her. My biggest fear is forgetting her, and I want more than anything to always remember what it felt like to laugh with her, see her smile, to just… be with her.” She cleared her throat and took a moment to compose herself.

“The thing is, Isaac,” Lydia started again. “No one likes being miserable. And no one _should_ be miserable. Period. The body fights almost every virus so that it won’t feel pain, and won’t shut down. Forgetting is just its way of fighting the sadness. So you have to remember that, even though it doesn’t feel like it, moving on is okay. Feeling miserable is not.”

Isaac was quiet, mulling over her words. Lydia wondered at herself, and how much of what she had just said was aimed at herself. As they sat and watched, a darker blue bled into the other colours of the sunset and darkened the world around them. When the streetlights behind them flickered into being, Scott announced that it was time for them to go home.

They packed slowly, wished Lydia a happy birthday again and then fell into the minivan. On the way back, Scott and Stiles accompanied their journey with slow, minor key renditions of pop songs, and Malia and Kira quickly fell asleep. Isaac, who was squished on a seat next to Lydia, allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder as he looked out of the window at the passing scenery.

“This was nice,” Lydia said sleepily, her eyes half-closed. “I liked today.”

Isaac lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders. She subconsciously snuggled closer. “Me too.”


	3. Prom Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if I've got anything wrong with the whole school/college process, I apologise. I'm English.
> 
> (also this isn't my favourite piece of writing ever, just so you're aware)

SUMMER

Summer arrived in a wave of boiling heat. The pack spent a large majority of their time at Lydia’s house, cramming for their final exams. Except, since the heat was too much for anyone, they all arranged themselves outside, around her pool. Malia spent most of her time actually in the pool, but she was still one of the most eager to learn, and Lydia was confident that she was going to do really well. Isaac was their designated food man, and he kept their supply of snacks topped up, since Stiles proclaimed that he couldn’t concentrate unless he’d eaten at least three bags of Doritos.

On Saturdays, they’d take breaks and pack a picnic to eat in the park, which always resulted in ten games of rounders, which Kira always won. The evenings were spent wherever they wanted. Since Malia and Stiles had finally made up, they often went on dates to the nearest pizza place, and Scott and Kira were always taking cute walks. This meant that Isaac and Lydia were basically always alone, so they sometimes went to see movies, or pigged out at each other’s houses. Their favourite thing to do, just the two of them, was to walk to the cliff that overlooked the entirety of Beacon Hills, and watch the sun set, talking about all the life decisions they were having to make.

On one of the nights, Isaac built up the courage to ask her something. “Will you come to prom with me?” he blurted out suddenly, during a brief silent period in which Lydia, perched on a rock, had been admiring the view.

She blinked and looked over at him, an eyebrow cocked. “Sure. You might have to fight for my hand from all my suitors,” she joked. Since Eichen House, Lydia just hadn’t ever been as popular. And she had found that she didn’t really mind.

Isaac rolled his eyes at her and tossed something over to her. Lydia caught it and observed it with amazement.

“You bought me a corsage!” she exclaimed, then looked up at him with a grin. “Imagine Old Lydia – being taken by _Isaac Lahey_ to senior prom.”

Isaac snorted and came to stand by her. “Old Lydia would have disowned you by now.”

Lydia smiled up at him. “Well, Old Lydia died on a lacrosse pitch almost two years ago, so I don’t really care what she thinks.” She brandished the corsage. “I will wear this with pride, and I will have to go shopping for a matching dress tomorrow. Although," she said seriously, and he looked at her worriedly. "You could have chosen a better colour."

Isaac punched her arm lightly and her laughs echoed into the night.

* * *

 

Lydia roped Kira and Malia into dress shopping the very next day. She picked Kira up first, and together they managed to extract Malia from Stiles’ bed; thankfully, they were both full dressed, so there was no awkwardness there. Malia blinked herself awake when they pulled up outside the dress shop, looking a little alarmed that she had no idea where she was, but too tired to do anything about it.

It took an extraordinarily long time for them to find three suitable dresses, and matching shoes. Lydia found her teal, knee-length one fairly early, and Kira bought a midnight blue, full-length dress next. Malia, the worst shopper ever, took a good three hours before finally settling on a burnt orange dress with a slit up her leg. Their shoes were the easy part, and they soon ended their day back at Kira’s house, eating Chinese and watching _A Cinderella Story_.

There was a pack picnic in the park the next morning, and their fifth game of ‘cricket’ was interrupted by none other than Derek Hale.

Isaac immediately ran to hug him, Scott following fairly swiftly afterwards. Everyone else kind of hung back awkwardly, until Derek and Braeden both decided to join in with their game. Then it was war.

(Kira’s team won – again.)

Isaac led them all to the viewpoint when the sky began to darken and they watched the sun set together, bundled in warm sweaters and clutching hot chocolates. Lydia shared a rock with Isaac, and he put his arm around her again.

“Thanks,” he whispered to her quietly.

Confused, Lydia looked up at him. “For what?”

He shrugged. “For being so nice to me. For not leaving me alone. For helping me through a hard time. I know none of this is easy for you.”

Lydia smiled at him and looked back down at her hot chocolate. “I’m coping,” she admitted honestly. “And it’s not like I could leave you alone; I’d have no one to sit with and watch the sun set.”

They were quiet as they watched their friends, all laughing and joking with each other, completely different people to what they had been six months before. Their biggest worry was which college they needed to go to so that they could all remain in contact, and whether Coach was actually going to let Isaac into prom. It was nice not to worry about anything worse than that.

Lydia’s phone suddenly vibrated in her hoodie pocket. She placed her empty cup on the ground so that she could pull out her phone. She turned on the screen and her heart stopped when she saw what the notification was. Before anyone could see it, she turned her phone off and stuffed it back in her pocket.

“What was that?” Isaac asked.

Lydia shrugged. “Nothing important,” she said distractedly, although it was a lie, and she was secretly itching to read the email. “Just ignore it.”

“Lydia!” Scott shouted.

Immediately on edge, she looked up with worry in her eyes. But he was just holding out his phone to her.

“Your mom’s on the phone,” he explained. “She wants to talk to you.”

Lydia closed her eyes briefly – how much of ‘keep it a secret’ could her mom not understand? – and then pushed off the rock, snatching the phone from Scott’s hand and heading into the woods so that she could answer it in relative isolation.

“Mom, I told you not to ring me unless it was an emergency!” Lydia exclaimed quietly, aware of any werewolves who could be listening in. “Not when I’m with my friends.”

_“I think an offer from Harvard negates a call, Lydia!”_

Lydia rolled her eyes. “How did you even know? I only got the email just now.”

_“I just saw the letter you must have got from them this morning_ ,” her mom said.

“You opened it?”

_“No!”_ her mom said defensively. _“Of course not. I didn’t need to. I know you got in, Lydia.”_

Lydia knew it, too, without opening any letters or emails. She knew her application had been good enough. But she didn’t want it to be true. She didn’t want to have to move so far away from her friends. She’d only applied in the first place because her mom had pressured her to.

“Mom, I don’t want to go,” she said, for what must have been the millionth time. “You know that. So we’re going to ignore the letter, okay? It never came. I didn’t get in. I’m going to go to Harvey Mudd, which is the best in the country for mathematics.”

_“But Harvard was your dream!”_ her mom argued. _“Lydia, you cannot let your friends take over your life. There’s more out there than just Beacon Hills.”_

Old Lydia had believed that; when she was eleven years old, watching _Legally Blonde_ for the first time, she had wanted nothing more than to get out of her home town and conquer Harvard, even if law wasn’t something she wanted to do. Just the idea of it, so far away from everything that involved her mom and dad, had been enough for her to fall in love. But a lot of things, most prominently herself, had changed since then. Harvard wasn’t something at the forefront of her mind anymore.

“They’re not just my friends,” Lydia said quietly, hoping against hope that they weren’t listening in. It was an embarrassing enough conversation for her to have with just her mom. “You don’t get that, but they’re more like family to me. I know you know what they are, and for whatever reason you tried to hide it all from me. But they’ve helped me through this, and we’re not just friends anymore. That word isn’t strong enough. They’ve saved my life countless times, they’ve made me a better person – it doesn’t matter about Harvard anymore, not to me. There’s more to life than what college I went to. What matters is the friends I have here and now, and how important they are to me. I’m not going to Harvard.”

She hung up abruptly, before she could get cold feet, and sucked in a deep breath. There were tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, which was a strange sensation to her. She didn’t usually get this worked up over everything. And maybe she was letting her old self down; maybe she should have pushed Harvard to the forefront of her mind. But as she walked back to the viewpoint, and saw all her friends laughing as the sun dropped, Lydia knew she’d made the right choice.

* * *

Senior prom was not as exciting as everyone wanted it to be, but Lydia knew that if she had never made friends with Scott and the rest of them, it would have been a million times worse.

Melissa kicked the boys out from her house, so that the girls could use it to get ready, and so that she could help. (Lydia knew it was also so that Melissa could have an excuse to be the one to take pictures.) The boys trudged off to Stiles’ house, and Malia, Kira and Lydia settled in the spare bedroom of Scott’s house, by the mirror.

Lydia offered to fix Malia’s hair, while Kira did her own, and then they helped each other into their dresses. Melissa insisted on helping them with their makeup (which meant that she watched and ooo-ed over them while Lydia expertly applied it to Kira and Malia’s faces). Then she proclaimed them ready and took them downstairs so that she could begin pictures.

The boys took almost an hour longer than them to get ready; they arrived, showering them in apologies and corsages. It took several minutes of Stiles’ frantic explaining to get Malia to understand exactly what a corsage was, while Scott and Kira giggled together cutely. Isaac fixed Lydia’s pale pink one on her wrist with a roll of his eyes.

“You look nice,” he said, which Lydia assumed was as much of a compliment as she was going to get from him.

“You too,” Lydia said back – which was totally true, because Isaac looked _really really_ good in a suit.

Melissa arranged them all, with the help of the Sheriff who just happened to be passing through, and snapped a million pictures. Eventually, Scott took pity on them all and asked her to stop so that they could actually get there before it ended.

The prom itself was anti-climactic. There wasn’t much dancing, just general swaying to the music (and some intense moves from Stiles that looked more like ju-jitsu). Isaac and Lydia spent the majority of their night avoiding Coach at the drinks table, sipping punch and lamenting about how they wished they were actually allowed to get drunk.

A slow song came on, eventually, and Scott purposefully walked past them on his way to the dance floor so that he could give Isaac a push in her direction.

“Will you dance with me?” he offered rather lamely.

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Not with that attitude.”

Isaac gave an exasperated sigh, but played along. He held out a hand to her. “Lydia Martin, would you dance with me?”

Lydia pretended to contemplate the offer. “Go on, then.”

The dance was nice (okay, that was a lie: it was probably the highlight of her night). It was easy to feel comfortable with Isaac, what with him being so tall. Lydia could easily snuggle up to his chest and not feel awkward about it. They swayed for a while, not talking and just reveling in being together. Then the slow song ended, a pop song blared out, and Stiles pushed past them in order to get to the middle of the floor.

Lydia danced three more times; with Scott to a slow song (in which he hinted quite heavily at her and Isaac being in a relationship), with Isaac to another slow song, and finally with Malia and Kira to a song that everyone knew the words and moves to.

They piled into Stiles’ Jeep and drove the rest of the way back in mostly silence; everyone bar Scott, the designated driver, fell slowly asleep. He drove them to Lydia’s house, where the floor was set up in the living room like it had been when they were revising. Except there were more pillows and blankets, so there was a place for everyone to comfortably fall asleep.

They all tumbled into their pajamas, then collapsed onto the blankets. Scott was the first to fall asleep, almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, and then Kira as she snuggled up to him. Stiles was next, snoring the loudest of anyone, and Malia kicked him in the face before falling asleep next to him. Isaac stared at the ceiling for a while, and then finally asked:

“Why aren’t you going to Harvard?”

Lydia winced. “You heard, then,” she guessed, even though it was obvious that he had. She took a deep breath and resolutely kept her eyes off his face. “I want to stay here. Not forever. But I’m not ready to move far away just yet.”

“Everyone else is going away,” Isaac pointed out, rather sulkily.

“Yeah, but they’re going to Californian colleges,” Lydia said. “Harvard is… so far away. I don’t think I’d last.”

She turned her head to look at him, and was surprised to see how close Isaac’s face was to her’s. “I’m deferring,” she blurted out suddenly. Maybe it was the proximity that made her suddenly nervous.

Isaac blinked at her. “What?”

Lydia closed her eyes. She hadn’t told anyone about her decision; not even her mom. She opened them again so that she could look him in the eye. “I’m deferring for a year. I’m going to wait until I feel more ready to go to college.”

Something that looked like relief passed over Isaac’s face. “You mean you’re not leaving me?”

Lydia laughed quietly, careful of her sleeping friends. “I’d never leave you. When I go to college, I’m just going to have to take you with me,” she said simply.

Isaac grinned, and reached over to take her hand. Lydia scooched closer to him and breathed in his familiar scent. She fell asleep with a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach.


End file.
